Jan 10, 2016

Just Smile and Wave

     I love dogs, they're a great learning tool: kids learn responsibility and grown-ups learn that other people are morons. At least that's what my dog taught me. Here's a quick example.
     Years back, when he was already an old pooch and quite an ill one to boot, people kept coming up to me during our walks asking me: 'Hasn't he died yet?' to which I thought: 'Well, yes, yes he did actually, he's a zombie dog and you're a dumb cunt, can't you tell?' But since there's no point in dealing with stupid, I kept that remark to myself. I think. At least I don't remember saying that out (too) loud. But honestly, with all the alcohol I drink, my memory isn't necessarily the most reliable ... What's that word again? Oh, right, source, my memory isn't necessarily the most reliable source. Although I do very distinctly remember a different comment I most certainly did utter out loud on another occasion which brings me to my second example illustrating the educational value of dogs.
     As I've said, my dog was very sick at the end and thanks to several conditions extremely bloated as well, which was of course extremely noticeable, so one day one random but very astute gentleman came up to us while we were out on our walk just minding our own frigging business and said: 'Your dog's a little fat, isn't he?' And here's where my sharp memory kicks in claiming I calmly said, verbatim: 'Oh, no, sir, he's not fat, he's just bloated. He has some issues with an enlarged prostate, just like you will in a couple of years. We actually just had him neutered because of it,' I added smilingly.
     Unfortunately, there's of course a ton of other examples and for the longest time I was certain that the multitude of those simply validated what my dog had been teaching me, but one day, long after he was gone, a thought sprung into my mind: what if that was just HIS legacy, what if other dogs don't teach other humans that people are stupid creatures, who should be barked at or peed on? What if other dogs teach other people other stuff? What if?
     Don't hold your breath — they don't.
     About a year ago, another gloriously awesome quadruped came into my life, i.e. my boyfriend's dog, and this delightful ball of craziness keeps on teaching me that people are in general, shocker, just a dimwitted horde of twats. Here's her example.
     We (my boyfriend, I and she) were taking a stroll in a park, when we noticed a man walking towards us in the opposite direction so she, because she's annoying and actually ADORES humans, went up to him to say hello, ears tucked in, head bent, tail hysterically wagging. And what did that moron do when this heap of cuteness and adorableness approached him? Pet her? Smiled at her? Ignored her? No, he started yelling at the poor sap trying to swat or kick her away. Like what the fuck?
     I saw that exact same thought ran through my boyfriend's mind and then his brain and temper started to boil. Frankly? Mine did too. But instead of zealously explaining to the dude that he didn't need to be such an irritating little bitch, I actually apologized (several times), smiled when he kept on grumbling and then even kindly waved him off. LIKE WHAT THE FUCK? When the fuck that happened? When did I adopt this 'smile and wave' attitude? And thus, ever since that walk, these questions had been pestering me until one day I decided to dig deep and buy the ticket, take the ride — down memory lane.
     So. If my memory serves me (again, keep in mind all the alcohol (ab)use), I've never been too keen on pointless tantrums and uncontrolled outbursts of unjustified name-calling but thanks to my choleric nature, that didn't stop me from going off on people when provoked, when the situation called for some verbal ass-whooping and even though I wrote over a year ago about finding my inner calm place and a way to rationalize why anger is bad and calm is good, I ... kind of haven't, not really. Until now apparently, when this zen shit sneaked up on me. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't figure it out ever since that walk, when all of a sudden, thank you deus ex machina, something happened in my little country which reminded me: screaming from the top of your lungs makes you look fucking dumb. And while watching the two opposing sides battle it out on television regarding the referendum on gay rights, I precisely remembered when the motto don't raise your voice, improve your argument got branded into my brain.
     A long, long, really long time ago, I watched a Slovene show on vegetarianism and even though I was one myself for a couple of years, the 'celebrity' (it was one of these two — one, two — otherwise very lovely ladies, but strangely I can't seem to remember which) they brought on to defend the lifestyle really rubbed me the wrong way: all her screeching and arm-swinging and grimacing was beyond irksome. I remember thinking: 'Shut up, you fucking moron. Half the country is running to the fridge to eat some salami just to spite you. Just zip it, you're not helping your cause.'
     She didn't so I changed the channel — but the lesson stayed. And thank fuck it did because there's an abundance of morons out there, just ask your dog, and luckily it has finally caught up with me that there really is no point in fighting windmills. So now? I just smile and wave (and store everything nicely in my memory box so I can spew it out later on the blog, ha).

     There's another thing I'd like to mention: after much persuasion and months and months of resisting, I finally allowed my boyfriend to set up a Facebook page for the blog. So if you're interested and think it would be easier for you to keep track of the FPS updates via Facebook, you're welcome to like or follow or subscribe or whatever the fuck you do on there HERE. If you're feeling extra kind, generous or supportive and you think that my little pile of nonsense and gibberish would interest other people you know, you're even more than welcome to share the page yourself as well. It would surely be much appreciated and provide me with some validation.

     Thanks for stopping by and looking and reading (obviously) my mishmash jumble of pot-pourri-like craziness, it means the world to me. Therefore, you're welcome to pop by again next week to see what's new on the blog — I post once a week every week, most likely somewhere between Wednesdays and Sundays. But beware, I'm not signing and sealing that in blood so your best bet is to follow FPS via email (or Bloglovin, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook or Google+) to never miss an update. Or simply come by again sometimes!